


Move Me, Baby

by AdiraStops



Series: Caleb is Hozier. That's It. That's the AU. [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blowjobs, But again it gets cleared up, Caleb is jealous of Jester...2!!, Canon Compliant Timeline, Club Concert, M/M, Modern AU, Post-Coital cuddling and talking about your feelings, background beaujester - Freeform, caleb pov, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdiraStops/pseuds/AdiraStops
Summary: Caleb sees a phone out of the corner of his eye. He feels his hand tighten around the mic stand, hates knowing he is being recorded. He looks that direction as he continues singing, and he realises that the phone is being held by a bright blue hand. A few words later, the phone comes down and he sees familiar horns bedecked with bows, face turned towards a screen where she is very clearly sending a video to someone.It can’t be.





	Move Me, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to more of Wasteland, Baby! and got inspired to write some more of this au! Higher rating than No Plan because the sex is a lot less vague. 
> 
> Warning: Molly is no longer in the band because he was in a car accident and lost his memory again. He's in recovery though, cause I couldn't bring myself to kill him. Sue me.

_ “You know, Jes and I were looking at Zadash as the next place to look for work. If you and your band ever find yourselves in that corner of the Empire, feel free to holler.” _

Caleb shakes himself out of the 2-months-old memory, the ghost of strong, green fingers tracing swirls on his arm leaving him with goosebumps.

It’s not that Caleb didn’t have Fjord’s number. He had it, but beyond expressing his gratitude to Fjord for offering him and his friends a place to stay, he was never confident enough to check in. When Fjord texted “it was my pleasure ;)” and nothing more, Caleb let the conversation lie.

_ If he wanted to talk to you more, he would have. _

Still, he couldn’t fight the anxious curiosity occupying his mind while he went through his pre-show routine. _ Maybe he made it to Zadash. Maybe he saw some of the posters. Maybe he’ll stop by tonight. Maybe he'll want to talk again. Maybe- _

A gentle knock startles Caleb out of his thoughts.

“Mister Caleb, the house manager wanted me to inform you that there’s five minutes until showtime. Now, you take as much time as you need, but I thought I’d relay the message.”

Caleb sighs. Caduceus is a pretty green addition to the band. He brought a desperately needed energy after Molly didn't come back, but Caleb still felt an ache in his chest whenever he thought about the purple tiefling.

_ Caleb, there was a car accident...Molly's okay, but… _

_ He forgot again. _

Caleb shakes himself out of that memory, too. The image of purple lips around a sharp smile fills his mind’s eye. _ Don’t dwell in the past, darling. Live in the now, leave every place better than you found it, and most importantly: let yourself have some fun. _

A sad smile finds its way onto Caleb’s face.

“Ja, Caduceus, I’ll be right out.”

Caleb takes one last look at himself in the mirror. Black jeans, brown t-shirt, orange and brown flannel, ratty shoes he can’t make himself replace. His hair is a little longer than it was in Trostenwald, and he fondly traces the braid Nott put on one side. One last sip of warm tea to soothe his throat, and he turns to leave the backstage dressing room.

_ Gastly to Look At _made a bit more of a name for themselves in the indie scene. They had graduated from grungy bars to small, underground clubs. It made Caleb nervous to see people pay full attention to him while he performed, having no drinks or food to distract them.

The memory of awed, yellow eyes watching his every move sends a shock through Caleb’s body. _ He might not even be anywhere near this city, Caleb. Don’t get your hopes up. _

Nott is bouncing with energy, clearly a little tipsy and excited to get a crowd going. Caleb walks up to her and kisses the top of her head, letting the gesture leech away some of his anxiety. Yasha is shyly fidgeting with the friendship bracelet Caduceus wove for her when she came back to the band. She had refused to let Molly figure things out alone, accompanying him as a personal aide for the first month of recovery.

_ He's doing better, but he said he'll pass on the guitar. He said to give it to whoever wants to play it. _

Caduceus calmly checks the tuning on the guitar again. 

_ Someone nice. _

Yasha was prepared to stay by Molly's side forever, but Molly sent her back, blessing her return. 

_ I'm told your name is Caleb? I'm sending Yasha back to you. I can see in her soul that she misses you guys. She says you were her new family, too. I'll be here whenever she wants to check in, and in between: make her play. Make her play something happy for me, all right? _

Despite having a totally different energy from Molly, Caduceus was remarkably similar when brought under direct comparison. He is kind, he is supportive, he plays by ear, and when Caleb heard him play Molly’s guitar, he felt like Molly was with them again, encouraging them to keep making music. The purple guitar now has patches of teal with swirls of pink painted on. The past not forgotten, but supporting something new.

“Gentlefolk, thank you for coming out tonight! I heard this band practicing backstage and I tell you, you’re glad you made it here! Don’t be fooled by their name, their music is anything BUT ghastly!” There’s laughter from the crowd while the house manager, a middle-aged dwarf, hypes them up and introduces them. 

Caleb himself is without his guitar for this show, trying to be more confident in his voice and his performance. He trusts his friends to handle the music so he can show off his entire vocal range. _ You’ll never get more confident in how you perform if you keep singing sitting down, hiding behind a guitar! Stand up and show off, Caleb! _Nott’s encouragement rings in his head.

Yasha takes her place behind her keyboard and microphone. Caduceus offers Caleb a calming smile. Nott’s smile is all teeth, and she makes a heart with her hands, which Caleb gladly returns. He adjusts his mic stand one more time and takes a deep breath.

“Let’s show some love to _ Gastly to Look At!” _Cheers and whoops cut through the applause as the house manager walks back through the curtain. The hype-man look relaxes immediately, discerning eyes making sure everyone’s all set up. Satisfied, he goes to the thick rope holding up the curtains and says “Curtains in 5, 4, 3, 2.”

The house is quiet as the curtains draw back, revealing Caleb and his friends.

Caleb had worked with the house manager to tune the lights so that they wouldn’t bother him, leaving him still able to see the faces in the crowd while Caduceus begins playing. A quick scan leaves Caleb disappointed when he doesn’t see a familiar half-orc. 

The first song of the night is a smooth one, much closer to the blues he likes to play when he wants to relax. It’s easier on his voice than some of the other songs--a deliberate choice so that he doesn’t immediately kill his throat belting out the more powerful songs on their roster.

_ “_ _I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do _

_ So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you” _

Caleb sees a phone out of the corner of his eye. He feels his hand tighten around the mic stand, hates knowing he is being recorded. He looks that direction as he continues singing, and he realises that the phone is being held by a bright blue hand. A few words later, the phone comes down and he sees familiar horns bedecked with bows, face turned towards a screen where she is very clearly sending a video to someone.

_ It can’t be. _

When the blue tiefling looks back up and smiles a grand smile at him, waving and mouthing “_remember me?” _at him, he can’t help but smile back.

The phone is back up, but Caleb lets himself not be intimidated by it. He lets his eyes close and he keeps singing.

_ “Before he feels alone _

_ One final time _

_ And marries the sea _

_ Imagine being loved by me” _

Caleb puts more soul into the song now, driven by hope after seeing one half of the roommate pair he was looking for, though admittedly not the half he wanted.

When he finishes the song, the crowd is cheering and clapping. Caleb smiles despite himself, still not used to the attention. There’s got to be at least a hundred people in here, listening to him sing and enjoying what he gives them.

_ Let yourself have some fun. _

“Hallo Zadash, ah...how are you doing?” It sounds awkward to Caleb’s ears, but the responding wall of sound is reassuring.

There's a little bit of overlap between this show and the show in Trostenwald, but the songs feel different, now. Caduceus' style varies from Molly's just enough that the tunes feel at once more relaxed and more permanent. They are more polished, the chords more solid, and Caleb finds that Nott was absolutely right: he never should have been singing sitting down. Singing is much easier when you're not crushing half of your diaphragm because you're a coward. He misses his bass, though; maybe in the future he'll sing, play, and stand all at once.

It'll be a little tougher, but the payoff is worth it, Caleb thinks.

When Caleb finishes "No Plan," it feels like the room is holding its breath. Caleb closes his eyes in that moment and remembers a man staring, so clearly awed and unashamed in his wonder. Then the applause hits him like a truck and his eyes flash open again.

_Come on, Widogast. You've got a show to do._

The crowd has still not settled when the blue tiefling--Jester, he remembers--waves her lit phone screen towards him. She turns away from the stage and takes off running. He’s confused as he watches her carve a path through the crowd to the back of the room. Towards the front of the club.

The door to the outside isn’t visible from the stage, being down a hallway and around a corner. If Jester’s energy is anything to go by, though, he grows confident that she’s not just running off.

Confident enough to try to show off a bit.

He undoes the top half of the buttons on his flannel and rolls the sleeves up to the elbow. He hears a couple of feminine cheers but is too gay to be bothered by them right now. He turns to look over his shoulder, away from the mic.

“Let’s do the fast one, ja?”

They all look taken aback, but only Nott speaks up.

“Already? Caleb, we’re not even halfway through the show, aren’t you worried about your voice?”

Caleb rolls his eyes at the goblin trying to baby him right now.

“Remember Fjord and Jester? Jester is here, and she just waved her phone at me and ran towards the door. I think...I think I want to show off a bit. So: fast one, ja?”

Caduceus smiles a knowing smile and nods.

“I’ll never say no to you finding a little extra confidence, Mister Caleb.” Caduceus seems as calm as ever, thankfully not overheating from the stage lights on his furred skin.

“We follow your lead, Caleb” Yasha says kindly.

Nott looks at her band fellows, looks at Caleb, and winks extremely obviously.

“Let’s do this!” she shrieks.

Caleb turns back to face the crowd.

To the same beat that Caduceus starts playing, deftly dancing through the notes of the opening chords, Nott hits the kick and Caleb loudly stomps his front foot. It quickly gets the crowd stomping along, and Caleb is relieved to only have to tap his foot to keep time.

_ “_ _Honey, this club here is stuck up _

_ Dinner and diatribes” _

He sees the blue tiefling in the hallway to the front, clearly running and dragging a green figure behind her.

_ “I knew it from the first look of _

_ The look of mischief in your eyes” _

The green figure stumbles into the room and looks up, locking eyes with Caleb. Familiar, striking yellow eyes.

_ “Your friends are a fate that befell me _

_ Head is the talking type _

_ I'd suffer Hell if you'd tell me _

_ What you'd do to me tonight” _

Caleb won’t admit that he wrote this song thinking of Fjord and his eccentric, but not unpleasant, friends. Won’t admit it, but can’t deny it.

Jester is pushing people aside to get back to the front, and they part for her. Something about the tiefling makes people get out of the way. Caleb is thankful for it, because it brings Fjord closer to the stage, right where he can see him.

Caleb now understands why he wasn’t here at the top of the show. He’s got a white tank top on under what are clearly stained work overalls. Fjord must have had work tonight, and Jester texted him that video of Caleb and his band. The fact that Fjord can't catch his breath can only mean one thing.

Fjord _ ran. _

And it’s with the power of that fact that Caleb belts the chorus, unashamed.

_ “That's the kind of love _

_ I've been dreaming of” _

The crowd cheers, flying high on how clear and drawn out each belt coming out of Caleb is. Jester herself is jumping up and down, clapping, shaking Fjord. Fjord is stunned into an awed stillness, wrapped around Caleb’s every move.

The songs Caleb sang at that bar in Trostenwald were softer, more relaxed, more shy. This song is dripping with the desire Caleb has for Fjord, the memories of hands, mouths, teeth, and heat. It forces Caleb to stand, be loud, and take up space. There’s no room for being subtle. He remembers waiting for Fjord to understand his intentions, his flirtations, every move he made. He remembers the tension in his body, holding absolutely still so that he wouldn’t overwhelm Fjord with his advances. He remembers that thread of tension snapping once Fjord leaned in to close that distance between them. 

He builds that tension, pours it into every word, and releases it with each chorus.

At the end, when Nott and Caduceus are playing Yasha out, bringing everybody back down with soft vocal repetitions, Caleb is panting. He’s panting _ hard. _

The crowd holds on to the last note Caduceus plays before absolutely roaring with applause and shouts of praise. Caleb is overwhelmed from the positivity. He didn’t hold anything back, and the crowd was _ delighted _ . The crowd wanted _ more. _

When Caleb looks at Fjord, he’s gripping the edge of the stage, and the look in his eyes can only be described as _ hungry. _

_ So, he still wants me, and now he gets to experience some of that tension I felt. _

A selfish, primal corner in his mind smiles a mean smile and says _ Good. _

He turns back to the rest of the band to signal to do the rest of the set as normal. They all nod in understanding. Caleb unbuttons the flannel the rest of the way so it moves freely around him, still rolled up to his elbows.

The energy in the crowd is addictive, but Caleb is only performing for Fjord now. He uses the mic stand as a support to dance in place. Maybe he's moving his hips a little more than necessary; who's to say.

The band ends the night with a slow song. It’s one where Caleb can show off his voice, but the crowd won’t leave ready to start a riot in the streets of Zadash.

Yasha plays the somber melody on the keyboard, and together Nott and Caleb set the beat for the crowd to clap and sway to.

Caleb looks fondly towards Fjord, seeking him as an anchor, but finds that Jester has cleared out a space at the front of the room and has convinced Fjord to dance with her. Other couples start dancing as well, but they pale in comparison to Fjord and Jester. They’re doing a modified swing dance, keeping time with the slower tempo, and it’s mesmerizing.

Caleb can feel his blood start to boil. He knows, objectively, he has nothing to be jealous about. Fjord and Jester are friends, and roommates, and they act like siblings with each other. 

On the other hand, he’s absolutely enraged that she gets to dance with Fjord to his music, and he doesn’t.

He hears some of the venom from his jealousy slip into his words.

_ “When you move _

_ I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be _

_ When you move _

_ I could never define all that you are to me _

_ So _ move _ me, baby _

_ Shake like the bough of a willow tree _

_ You do it naturally _

_ Move me, baby” _

The whole room is dancing now, either coupled off or on their own, moved by the music and inspired by the confidence of others. One of the few standing still, Caleb realises, is Beau, wearing just enough makeup that he didn’t recognize her: the woman Jester spent most of the last time he saw her wrapped around. 

He locks eyes with her and he juts his head to the side. Towards Jester. A silent “go to her” signal that Beau seems to read loud and clear. She smiles knowingly, nods, and crosses the room. Fjord sees her and twirls Jester into her arms. Jester laughs and the two women continue their own little dance together.

That leaves Fjord to dance alone, and Caleb’s private, selfish fantasies of what the man would look like dancing to his music are brought to life. Fluid, sensual, sure in his movements even if his face betrays how shy he really is in this moment. That said, something he sees on Caleb’s face gives him the confidence to throw a heavy-lidded, open-mouthed smile at him.

Caleb has very good, very specific memories of that mouth, and that smile just snapped the last of his self-control in half. Nott starts drumming, and Caleb knows he has a couple measures to move.

He rips his flannel off and wrenches the microphone out of the stand. It’s blessedly wireless, because he takes it with him as he jumps off the stage. Nott screams and the room cheers, excited that he is among them now. He doesn’t care about either. He has one target, and he reaches a hand out towards him.

Fjord recovers from his shock quickly, grabbing his hand and wrapping himself up in Caleb’s free arm as he continues singing. He holds on to Fjord who sways with him, lands a beat, and twirls away. He’s smiling when Fjord begins to twirl him instead, turning the words of the song into a literal command and response.

Fjord brings him back close, replicating the dance he was doing with Jester. With Caleb, though, he includes the sensuality. They are chest to chest, only the microphone between them. Their legs brush more than once and Caleb thinks he might explode if Fjord starts grinding on him. Instead, as the song is coming to a close, Caleb belting out the last notes that are little more than screaming, Fjord kicks both of his feet out from under him and catches him in a practiced dip.

Caleb is positive he’s blushing. He must look a sight: sweaty, hair in his face, screaming in Fjord’s lap, and he feels like he’s ascended from this plane. There’s nowhere he would rather be than here in Fjord's arms.

He lets the last note go and Fjord brings him back up to standing. The crowd is cheering and reaching to put their hands on him. Fjord puts his arm around Caleb’s waist and Caleb throws his free arm over Fjord’s shoulder. In this position, the people who reach can only really graze his arms, which he is okay with.

“Thank you, citizens of Zadash! It has been an absolute pleasure singing for you tonight!” Caleb shouts into the mic, not waiting for the applause to finish.

Nott, Caduceus, and Yasha are all standing and clapping, staring at Caleb with shock still evident on their faces. He had been so resistant to giving up his stool, to forcing himself to be seen and appreciated by the crowd. 

Here he is now: wrapped up in the arms of a fan, down on the main floor, surrounded by strangers, all cheering for him.

“He’s beautiful, he sings, he plays guitar, _ and _he can dance? Is there anything you can’t do?” a deep, rumbly voice asks in his ear. Caleb, still catching his breath, leans away from the mic towards Fjord’s ear.

“Come backstage with me right now and find out.” 

It’s not a question, he realises a little late. He is about to try to rephrase it so Fjord can say no when suddenly he’s airborne. Fjord has lifted him bridal style and is walking to the door that leads backstage.

Caleb hears Nott shouting, asking where Fjord is taking Caleb, but Jester and Beau approaching the stage and saying hello again distract her.

Once safely in the back hallway, out of the main room of the club, Caleb chuckles in Fjord's ear.

“I appreciate the gesture, Fjord, but you do not know where you are going and you should not waste your energy carrying me while you look for it.” Caleb would be lying if he said he wasn’t comfortable, cradled in Fjord’s arms as he was, but there was time for that later. 

_ Later implies that something is happening now, Widogast. _

Fjord chuckles as he sets Caleb’s feet on the ground, a sheepish look on his face. He’s clearly reaching to rub at his neck to apologize, but Caleb doesn’t let him. He grabs Fjord’s hand out of its path and brings it towards his face, kissing the palm.

Fjord is far less hesitant than he was in Trostenwald. He moves the hand away from Caleb’s mouth and brings his other hand to clutch at his face and hair as he kisses Caleb breathless. Caleb lifts onto his toes again, closing his eyes and sighing through his nose.

Someone clearing their throat makes Fjord pull away with a jerk. That primal piece of Caleb flares with anger, but he turns around patiently anyway. He freezes when he realises it is the stage manager, standing with his arms crossed and a frustrated look on his face.

“Ordinarily, I would remind you that jumping off the stage is strictly prohibited for safety reasons. That said, you just put on one of the best shows this club has seen in years.” A knowing smile replaces the--very fake, Caleb suddenly realises--frustration on his face. “For now, I’ll just ask for the microphone back and you and me can talk about scheduling more shows here in the morning.”

Caleb looks to his other hand, still holding the microphone. His anxiety flares, wondering if it’s still on, if the crowd has been able to hear him and Fjord. Still unsure, he hands it back to the house manager, who accepts it and walks away laughing.

“Just don’t make too much of a mess back there, all right, lads?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer out of either of them, so Caleb leads Fjord through the hall and back to the dressing room, face burning.

He doesn’t wait once they’re both inside. He uses Fjord’s back to push the door closed, locking it behind them while locking their lips in the same moment. 

Caleb pulls away again to breathe, mouthing at Fjord’s neck while his hands plant on Fjord’s shoulder blades to hold him close.

“I was...disappointed when I didn’t see you at the top of the show” Caleb whispers into Fjord’s skin.

“Work ran late...lost track of time...Jessie told me you started and...and she sent me...and she sent me that video of you singin’...and...” Fjord is stammering, breath hitching with each new spot Caleb presses open-mouthed kisses to.

“And? What’s got you so distracted, Fjord?” Caleb plays dumb with a smile on his face, finding the spot where he bit Fjord, before. There’s no mark, but the skin itself isn’t hidden, and Caleb starts sucking at it.

“Hah, you--... you _ know _what’s...I like that...A lot...Do it more” he’s breathless, letting his head fall back against the door with a thump. Caleb is more than happy to oblige, moving up his neck, enjoying that Fjord is quick to tell him what he wants this time.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come to see me play again. You didn’t text, but when I saw your roommate, I knew you were at least in the city, like you said.” Caleb keeps his face where it is, not wanting to show his sad, aching expression to Fjord in this moment. He drags his hands along Fjord’s shoulders, barely covered by the tank, relishing in the muscle definition there.

“Well, point of order, you didn’t text either," Fjord responds, neither passive nor cruel.

_ You know, he’s right. _

Caleb pulls away and looks up. He is about to reply when Fjord holds a finger to his mouth, continuing: “and I would have come to your show whether you remembered me or not. Your voice is _ amazing _ . _ You _ were _ amazing _out there tonight, Caleb.” Fjord’s voice is far more honest and reverent than Caleb was prepared for.

Caleb doesn’t know whether to be indignant on Fjord’s behalf at the implication that he _ could _forget Fjord, much less that he already had, or whether to hide from the unabashed praise. 

He decides to do neither, and instead sucks the tip of Fjord’s index finger into his mouth, laving his tongue over it.

Fjord gasps before chuckling and pulling his finger back. “Cheeky,” he says, and it is by no means an insult.

Fjord turns them around, putting Caleb against the door before tossing off the straps of his overalls and ripping his tank top off. The overalls manage to cling to his hips, and his chest is laid bare. Caleb’s eyes widen excitedly, knowing this is an area Fjord didn’t let him see before.

Fjord pauses, and the easy confidence hardens into a mask. To Caleb, it looks like Fjord is bracing for a blow.

Caleb decides dwelling on it would be worse than acting like nothing is wrong. Because nothing _ is _wrong. Awed, he holds Fjord’s gaze. “May I touch?” It comes out breathy, wanting, but Caleb won’t rush this part. He can’t.

Fjord swallows, doing a quick spin with his arms wide, channelling some sort of false bravado. Caleb sees why his mood shifted. Across his back is a gnarled stretch of scars. There’s got to be a story there, but it’s one he won’t ask for tonight. 

“Sure you want to?” He laughs once, like it’s a joke. But it would be a joke on Fjord and by that, Caleb cannot abide.

Caleb doesn’t hide how his eyes track over Fjord’s stomach, chest, and shoulders, before re-centering on his Face. “Absolutely” he replies, eyes heavy and voice laced with certainty and desire.

Fjord blushes, looking for the lie in Caleb’s face. When he still doesn’t find it, he takes a step closer again. “Then by all means.”

Caleb’s hands trace over every inch of Fjord’s skin, revelling in the sensation. Once on his back, Caleb’s hands pull Fjord close again, and they keep exploring while Fjord relaxes into another kiss. There’s an underlying desperation when Caleb opens his mouth and Fjord licks into it. It’s hungry, it’s searching, and Fjord moans into him. His arms wrap around Caleb’s form once again.

Caleb’s entire body is vibrating, but he won’t move forward until Fjord feels comfortable. He was afraid of _ something _, be it disgust or outright rejection, and Caleb wanted to wait until Fjord found his sureness that Caleb still wanted him.

He can feel his hips moving, though. A gentle rock back and forth against nothing. He holds on to Fjord’s back like his life depends on it and Fjord takes him for a ride with his tongue. His eyes are fluttering and he moans gently against Fjord every now and again.

He feels the lips against him smile and Fjord adjusts how he’s standing. He puts one of Caleb’s legs between his and one of his own between Caleb’s. He grabs Caleb’s right hand with his left, he moves his right hand to Caleb's waist, and he’s moving again, away from the door. He’s dancing with Caleb the way he was out in the crowd, occasionally shifting close to start a smooth, slow grind.

Caleb’s head is swimming around Fjord dancing with him in their small space. It’s not just sexy. It’s romantic. It’s sweet. Caleb feels something small and dangerous make itself known in his mind and he hides it away for now. There will be time to talk about that later.

He pulls away from the kiss to press more kisses to Fjord’s neck. He sucks one more purple-brown mark before laying his head down against Fjord’s shoulder. He’s enjoying the heavy sway, and he begins humming Movement again. It seems like Fjord is also humming, but Caleb realises he is rumbling like Frumpkin does whenever he comes home. The thought makes the small something in his mind glow a little warmer.

“Do you often seduce men by humming your own music in their ear?” Fjord asks. It’s a joke, and it’s soft. Almost rhetorical.

“That depends” Caleb muses, matching his tone. “Do you often _ sprint _ away from work to seduce men with your dancing?”

Fjord’s laugh is quiet. In truth, all Caleb hears is the exhale from his nose, but he feels Fjord’s chest moving. Most importantly, he doesn't deny it. It feels good to know that he was right: that Fjord was so excited to see Caleb perform that he _ ran. _

Fjord begins to grind again and Caleb presses confidently against him. He is not surprised to find he is also hard, and it feels good.

It just feels _ good _, being with Fjord like this.

Fjord groans and pulls him in closer, grinding deeper with both hands gripping Caleb’s ass. Caleb resumes sucking marks into the side of Fjord’s neck. Both of them groan louder from the pleasure and Fjord pulls Caleb back towards a couch that he honestly didn’t know was there, hidden behind equipment and the like.

“Tell me what you want, Fjord” Caleb breathes, rubbing gently against Fjord’s abdomen.

“_ You” _he groans, not moving to have either of them sit down.

“That’s remarkably...eh...flattering, but..._ sorely _ lacking in specifics.” Caleb unbuttons his pants, more for relief than any attempt to push Fjord along.

“If...I don’t wanna cause problems for you...if I wanted to...to…would you still be able to sing for your next show?” Fjord tumbles through the question before he tucks his face into Caleb’s neck, clearly embarrassed.

The laugh that pulls from Caleb is the first true laugh he’s had in a long, long time. He turns to kiss at Fjord’s temple, rubbing little circles into his back.

“Yes, Fjord, if you wanted me on my knees before you I will still be able to sing. Thank you for thinking considerately, though” Caleb says with a smile, pressing another chaste kiss to his skin.

Fjord whines and grinds forward one more time before pulling back, nodding, and flopping onto the couch endearingly. Caleb is right on him, reaching to pull the overalls properly down over his hips, looking up to make sure Fjord is okay with that, and smiling at the nod he receives. He leans up to kiss Fjord properly on the mouth again, then pulls the overalls all the way down. 

Fjord looks..._ uncomfortably _ hard in his boxer-briefs. Caleb is about to situate himself between Fjord’s legs when Fjord stops him, turns over the side of the couch, finds a pillow, and hands it to him.

_ Sweet. Considerate. Bashful. Beautiful. _

Now comfortable, Caleb presses kisses along the outside of Fjord’s cock, still in his briefs. It twitches under him, Fjord gasps, and he smiles. 

“I am going to start slow, but once you feel the back of my throat, you are allowed to thrust as hard as you want. Understand?” Caleb asks, looking Fjord in the eyes.

“B...but, your--”

“Neither of us are going to have fun if you spend every second holding back, afraid for my voice. Slow, and then hard, ja?” Caleb tries again, not letting any frustration into his voice.

_ Patience. He’s still shy. Still trying to be sweet. Patience and kindness. _

“Does that mean you plan to...to swallow? I don’t think I’ll be able to stop and ask...in the moment” Fjord clarifies, averting his gaze and blushing again.

“Yes. Yes I do. May I touch you now?”

“_ Please.” _

Caleb doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of how Fjord says that word.

Pulling Fjord’s briefs down, he grabs the base, propping it up to lick a long, slow line from base to tip. Once he’s there, Caleb wraps his lips around and sucks, _ hard. _Fjord gasps, but holds his hips as still as he can.

_ Good boy _ Caleb’s thinks, but they’re _ miles _away from discussing that kind of arrangement, so he refrains from saying anything like that aloud.

He pulls off to gather a bit more saliva, then pushes down again, going just a little further before sealing and sucking hard. Fjord’s biting his lip, trying to stay quiet, and his breathing seems forcefully controlled.

_ He's trying to make this last. Cute. _

Caleb relishes in the fact that since he set the line where Fjord can stop holding back, he can drive him as crazy as he wants, as long as he wants. He won’t torture the man, but he won’t go easy, either.

He goes back and forth over Fjord, getting close to, but not at or over, the boundary he set. He draws back with his tongue pressed against the underside, looking up at Fjord. His knuckles are white with how hard his grip on the edge of the couch is, and his breathing is getting more and more labored. But he won’t beg for it. He won’t push Caleb.

If all goes well, Caleb will have plenty of time to play with Fjord. A little mercy right now is no bad thing.

He comes back up, takes a deep breath through his nose, sucks hard around the tip one more time, and then pushes as far as he can, relaxing his throat.

Fjord gasps when he feels the back of Caleb’s throat, and in his shock he immediately thrusts a little bit. Caleb swallows around him, bracing himself with his arms wrapped around Fjord’s thighs. He’s still hesitant, but Fjord pulls back and thrusts deeper, groaning as he does. As Caleb continues being okay, he gets more confident, pushing deeper while Caleb holds himself still.

Fjord pulls all the way out, allowing Caleb to take a deep breath. Fjord nudges Caleb back and scoots forward on the couch so that he can get a better angle. Caleb places himself back in position, taking Fjord into his mouth again. Now, Fjord is thrusting forward instead of up, and Caleb starts to see stars. Fjord pushes deeper than ever, Caleb can feel his nose brush skin, and from there his thrusts are shallow, relishing the feeling of his cock in Caleb’s throat.

Fjord’s hands seek to grab at something, anything, so they land on Caleb’s shoulders, effectively bracing himself for balance. He’s practically standing up off the couch, his searching for the best angle.

Tears prick at Caleb’s eyes. He’s so hard, still in his jeans, and can do nothing but hold on for the ride. It’s _ thrilling, _ letting Fjord seek out his own pleasure like this. With _ him. _

Fjord’s breathing is quick and hitching, like any second he could topple over the edge. Caleb seals his lips around Fjord and starts humming again. Whether it’s the increased friction or the added vibrations, Fjord scrabbles at Caleb’s shoulders and a clipped shout escapes him.

Caleb swallows around Fjord again, pulling back and away, slowly. Fjord is still gasping as Caleb mouths gently at the head. Caleb takes another shaky breath in through his mouth and wipes at his eyes.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you, darlin’?”

_ Darling. _

“Nein...not at all…” Caleb rasps, blissfully, smiling. His throat is sore, but it’s not like it wasn’t sore from the singing, either. 

Fjord leans down to kiss the corner of Caleb’s eye, where the moisture has gathered, before guiding him to sit back against the front of the couch.

Caleb pulls his jeans and briefs down just far enough for his dick to bob freely. He takes in the image of Fjord in front of him: sated but eager to return the favor.

“Whatever you want...do whatever you want” Caleb sighs, hips thrusting against nothing.

Caleb’s already close and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to care. Fjord slides down to lick a few loose swipes up and down Caleb’s shaft before taking him in hand, sitting back up to be eye-level with Caleb. His grip is tight, and Caleb thrusts into it desperately. He wraps his arms around Fjord’s neck and kisses him, loose and messy, still gasping for breath with his mouth.

He begins to keen, whining into Fjord’s mouth. His instinct is to pull him back when he pulls away, but when Fjord seals his lips around the head of his dick he gasps, spilling into his mouth. 

He swallows most of it, but a little escapes the corner of his mouth. When Caleb wipes it away with his thumb, Fjord dives to suck the digit into his mouth, cleaning him up entirely.

“I know he said not to make a mess, but do I really taste so good that you want everything you can get?” Caleb asks, gone a little silly in the afterglow.

Fjord blushes and answers with a kiss, forcing Caleb to taste himself when he licks into his mouth. It’s a power move, and Caleb can respect that, laughing at himself.

Caleb pulls at Fjord to get him into his lap, too boneless to get up and onto the couch just yet. Fjord snuggles close, mindlessly kissing at his throat and shoulder.

Caleb drifts in and out. It could be minutes, it could be an hour. If he wanted to keep track, exactly, he could. He just doesn’t right now. Eventually, Fjord breaks the silence by clearing his throat.

“So...the manager wants you to play more shows here. How long are you in town?” Fjord’s voice goes high with the question, the side-effect of trying too hard to sound casual.

Caleb smiles. “You know, we don’t really have a plan anymore. There are several clubs in this city, it has access, and the cost of living is not terrible. I could see myself settling in, here. How long are _ you _ in town?”

Fjord stiffens. “Does...does that matter?” It’s not cruel, the way he asks. He just seems genuinely confused.

Caleb gestures for Fjord to get up. He does, and Caleb stands up, pulling his underwear and pants back up, re-settling himself. He sits on the couch and gathers his thoughts while Fjord re-dresses himself. He lays back and invites Fjord to lie on top of him, which he does happily.

The weight is comforting. It helps him focus and pick which of the many things he wants to say first.

“I did not text you because I was not confident enough to get past the idea that I was just a one-night stand story for you. Sleep with a singer, tell your friends, move on. That assumption was from my own anxiety, not on any signals you gave me. I enjoyed spending time with you in Trostenwald, and I have certainly enjoyed this evening. I can only assume that I would continue to enjoy spending further time with you.”

Fjord hums and is quiet for a moment. He kisses Caleb’s chest and looks up, a self-conscious smile on his face.

“And I didn’t text _ you _ because I was afraid I’d seem like a clingy groupie. Maybe we should keep assumptions to a minimum from now on, yeah?”

Caleb chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of Fjord’s head. “Deal.”

They laze for another twenty minutes, Caleb drawing nonsense over Fjord’s back and Fjord rumbling pleasantly, before there’s a knock at the door.

“Caleb, are you alive in there? If you don’t say yes I’m picking the lock and murdering Fjord!” Nott’s voice pierces through the door.

Fjord chuckles. “She always like that?”

Caleb rolls his eyes, an answer that’s not an answer. “Yes, Nott, I am still among the living, could we please not murder the man I like?”

Fjord perks up like a puppy who heard his name. “You like me?” He asks, eyes sparkling.

“Did you not listen to my whole spiel about enjoying your company? Yes, I like you, Fjord.” Caleb smiles, patting his back twice before sitting up. 

Fjord finds his phone and snickers. “Beau and Jessie are pissed I made ‘em wait so long.”

“I suppose be thankful that they didn’t just leave and hope you’d be okay?”

“Guess so” Fjord says, fondly. 

Fjord puts his tank top back on, but leaves the straps of his overalls hanging to the sides. They’re clearly not designed for style, but it’s still a good look on him. Caleb momentarily panics when he can’t find his flannel, and he blushes when he remembers he ditched it on stage to dance with Fjord.

A quick peek into the main hall confirms that all of the band equipment has been removed from the stage. The lack of a brown flannel means either someone from the band snagged it, or someone in attendance took it and it’s gone forever.

Caleb escorts Fjord to the back-entrance of the club, leading into a back alley of Zadash. Sure enough, the van is still parked there, with Jester, Beauregard, and Nott sitting in the van while Caduceus and Yasha stand against its open rear-doors. Nott has carefully folded Caleb’s flannel, holding it out for him to take back. With lightning speed, Beau takes it from her, lifting it out of reach of them both.

“You get this back when you apologize for taking too long to fuck,” she says, too seriously.

“Beau, can we NOT be like this right now” Fjord groans, embarrassed.

“No, Fjord, we ARE gonna be like this because you’ve been back there for almost 2 hours! When you have friends waiting on you is not the time for post-coital naps!” Beau is legitimately lecturing Fjord about fucking right now, and it’s too funny for Caleb to pass up.

“You are right, Beauregard, I apologize for wasting all of your time with post-coital naps. In my defense, Fjord is very pretty and moving him felt like moving a cat that has fallen asleep on you.” Caleb bows, a somber expression plastered on his face.

“You know, sometimes when he naps he even purrs like a cat! So really that is the perfect excuse and you should give him his shirt back, Beau” Jester reasons.

“Apology accepted,” Beau rules, balling up the flannel and nailing Caleb in the face with it. He would be annoyed if he wasn’t so impressed someone could turn a shirt into a projectile weapon.

“I’m not sure whether I’ve lost or won here. Either way, it’s late, I haven’t eaten yet, and there’s a place I found nearby that’s open 24/7. Who’s joining me?” Fjord looks around the group, and Caleb doesn’t miss the layered expression when he looks his way. Caleb smiles a small smile, just for him, and reaches to take his hand. Fjord perceptibly brightens at the development and squeezes his hand once. Caleb squeezes back.

“Ugh, gross, I’m not going if you’re gonna make doe eyes at each other the whole time” Beau pouts.

“I could go for a meal of sorts, depending on what they serve. At the very least, I can simply join you for company and eat one of my own snacks” Caduceus accepts, pleasantly.

“I think I want something to drink more than anything else” Yasha muses, rubbing at her throat. Caleb nods sympathetically.

“I’m fuckin’ starvin! Let’s go!” Nott screeches, hopping down from the floor of the van.

“I’m preeeeeetty sure you _ have _ eaten _ something _ Fjord, but I will join you for _ foooood _ right now!” Jester mocks, sticking her tongue out at Fjord before looking back to Beau, hopefully.

“Yeah, okay. Come on, let’s go” Beau concedes. She helps Jester out of the van and slams the back doors shut.

The place Fjord brings them to is not the classiest place around, but no 24-hour joint ever is. The important thing is they have coffee, tea and honey for Caleb and Yasha, bread, and bacon.

Fjord and Caleb sit next to each other at the table, and Fjord’s phone dings quietly. Caleb not-subtly looks over his shoulder to see who’s texting at this hour, unsurprised when he sees “Jessie” as the contact name. The bubble says ‘_ sent a video’. _

Fjord opens the attachment and holds it for both him and Caleb to watch, with the sound muted. Caleb quickly recognizes Fjord. A moment later, his own hair. It’s a video of them dancing together, twirling on the dance floor. 

Without a care, Fjord saves the video, opens a new text window, and sends it to Caleb.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I'm trying to lean into when I get inspired to write. Maybe some day I'll feel confident enough in my characterisation to not need an AU? 
> 
> Comments with feedback and/or love greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> Hozier songs used in this fic, in order:  
Title from Movement  
Talk  
Dinner and Diatribes  
Movement


End file.
